Summersong
by shake-n-shiver
Summary: Paint your palette blue and grey, look out on a summer's day, with eyes that know the darkness in my soul. Part of the Glimpses series.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Doctor Who.  
**THANKS:** to JennyLD for the beta and for the prompt that led to this story.

_Paint your palette blue and grey, look out on a summer's day, with eyes that know the darkness in my soul _

The Doctor slid his gaze away from hers, flicking his eyes over the blue and grey sky. The warm summer's day wasn't right; he should've landed them during winter, harsh and cold and wet. Soft breezes and blue skies were unfitting for his mood, and he wanted to jump back in the TARDIS and head into the blackness of space just to be surrounded by the more familiar, more fitting, darkness.

"Doctor?" Rose pleaded, blinking back tears that she'd shed too many times since meeting him. She swiped at them angrily and sniffed.

When he turned his eyes back to her, he'd steeled himself for all of her accusations and anger, but she simply stared at him.

A moment later, she nodded and took a few steps back. Her feet tangled together in her anxiousness to get away from him and he automatically reached out to catch her, but she ripped her arm out of his grip and he ended up barely grazing the warm skin of her arm before it was gone. "Don't."

Stung, but knowing he deserved nothing less, and indeed, deserved more--more than just her silent anger--he straightened his shoulders and stuck his hands in his trouser pockets, clenching his sonic screwdriver with enough nearly force to snap it in half. "I'm sorry," he said clearly, making sure there were no misunderstandings between them now. This was absolutely how it had to be.

And he had to remember that.

She scoffed and turned to the sky for a moment before finding his gaze again, unshed tears swimming in her eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure you are. You know, you say that a lot, maybe you should think about why."

"Rose." Despite himself, his voice turned softer and his hand reached out to touch her again. When she swallowed with distaste and jerked away from him, he dropped his arm to his side and closed his hearts off to her, ignoring the cracks that were already forming.

This was for the best.

"Have a good life, Doctor." Turning her back on him, she headed for the Powell Estates, hand on her stomach, where their child grew.

He sniffed sharply and turned from her for the last time. It was better this way; he had enemies that couldn't know that he had a son or daughter out there, and a woman he loved more than life itself.

It was better this way.


	2. One More Chance

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Doctor Who.  
**THANKS:** to JennyLD for the beta and for the prompt that led to this story.

_Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man, ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand -- Tiny Dancer by Elton John_

A hand swept gracefully through the grains of yellow sand before moving up in a fluid motion to join its twin, curving elegantly over a brunette head. A poised leg kicked out once, twice, then again before spinning the small child around, her pink tutu a blur of color against the dull, grey sky. The girl hummed along to music only she could hear, but the Doctor recognized the tune; he'd written it himself.

He watched from a short distance, smiling as she dipped back down again, the setting sun shining through her hair and silhouetting her briefly as her lithe body blocked it from his view.

She was beautiful.

Standing on tiptoes, she pirouetted again, then dropped to the warm sand with a giggle. Still humming, she settled her legs out in front of her, digging her toes into the sand.

A hand slid into his and he instinctively threaded their fingers together. Lifting their clasped hands, he pressed his lips briefly to Rose's, then swung her around to stand in front of him. Wrapping his arms around her, he gently kissed her chilly lips.

She rested her forehead against his chest, slipping her jacketed-arms around his waist. "Your daughter is as tone deaf as you are."

Chuckling, he settled his chin on the top of her head, watching as their daughter tried to stand on her head, ending up with a face full of pink tutu in the process.

"Regrets?" Rose asked, tightening her arms around him and snuggling closer.

Holding tight to one half of everything that he held most dear in his lives, he thought about all the dangers they'd faced over the years. Thought about all the times he could've lost them. About how much safer they would've been if he'd left them on Earth as he'd tried to do so long ago.

Rubbing his cheek against her head, he whispered, "Not one."


End file.
